A/N: I cannot believe how long it took me to update this; first off, I'd like to say that I really didn't think anyone was reading this, and I'd sort of lost where I was going with the story, but I recently started to get emails letting me know that people were commenting months after the last chapter and favoriting and alerting and THAT MADE ME FEEL SO SPECIAL. so thank you so much for being so nice and sticking with this, and enjoy the next chapter!

"Good morning, Kendall!" Mrs. Robert's sweet voice sing-songed as she pushed through the heavy, white door that led to her foster son's room. Kendall's head shot up, a faint smile tearing across his perpetually monotoned expression. For a moment, he internally debated on whether or not to stand, though eventually compromised by kicking his feet off the edge of the hospital bed.

"I brought flowers," she continued, stepping farther into the room and then extending her hands as to reveal a colorful, potted plant, "I wanted to bring you something to eat, but the nurses said it wouldn't be a good idea. So..." she gently plopped the pot onto the boy's colorless bedside table, "...flowers!" Kendall reached out to run his fingers along the ceramic pot, that was surprisingly cold against his skin.

"Thank you." He replied, looking up to meet his foster mother's warm brown eyes. He was genuinely touched by the gesture- both the flowers, and the fact that she hadn't shown her receipt to Kelly Weinwright and tried to return him to child services after he'd been admitted to the juvenile psychiatric ward of the local hospital.

Four days ago, Kendall awoke in an unusually comfortable bed in a bland room. Understandably, his first instinct had been to close his eyes and try to wake again. After the attempt landed him in the same position, he'd concluded that he wasn't dreaming, and forced himself to try and make sense of his new surroundings. Not only were both his arms bandaged, but long, thin tubes stuck out from underneath the gauze and ended at an I.V stand just beside the bed. One was flowing with a splashy red liquid, the other, a colorless solution that could have been anything from water to unicorn tears. Kendall groaned and shut his eyes in a last attempt to wake himself from what he now knew wasn't a dream.

A doctor walked in maybe ten minutes, maybe an hour later; by this point, Kendall had no concept of time. He tried to listen as the professional individual read big words off a clipboard, though his head was pounding and his arm was throbbing and the room was spinning and he was in no mood to listen, actually.

By noon, Kendall was up and moving, now understanding that he'd been placed in the Emergency psychiatry ward after a suicide attempt. His phone had disappeared and he didn't know where to look for the clothes he'd arrived in, now in only his boxer shorts and a hospital gown. To occupy the time, Kendall had unraveled some of his gauze, feeling very much like the mummies he'd been learning about in history class, and counted out about 27 stitches in a single arm. He then stopped to cringe when he realized it was still very much possible to make out his ex-best friend's name in the raw skin. That was when he fell into an arm chair and buried his face into his open palms in genuine exasperation. This had not been the intended outcome.

"How are you feeling?" Mrs. Roberts asked carefully as she lowered her body into the arm chair by the window. Kendall pursed his lips and nodded.

"Fine, thank you."

After four days of careful observation, it was deemed that Kendall no longer needed to be in Emergency care, and was moved to the Juvenile ward, where visitors were welcomed during specific hours of the day. The blonde felt stupid, opposed to relieved. He hated being watched and observed and talked to and fed. He hated other people taking care of him; he was the one who was supposed to care for everyone else. He hated that they had to.

Kendall looked to the middle aged woman, and watched for her smile to falter even a little bit. As badly as he wanted to ask when she'd be leaving- when the words, "I'm sorry, but I can't do this," or "You don't deserve to live in my house" would surface- he didn't, as he genuinely appreciated her company. There was no way she'd stick around- there was no way anyone would want a depressed and suicidal stranger living in their guest room. This being the case, Kendall tried to keep his eyes open and absorb as much of the woman's presence as he could, saving it for a time when he'd inevitably find himself alone again.

"Mom?" The door cracked open, and half of Camille Robert's face was visible behind the door. Kendall furrowed his eyebrows, not entirely sure whether or not his mind was playing tricks.

"Kendall!" She exclaimed, meeting the blonde boy's eyes before throwing her hands to the side and sprinting forward.

Kendall stood to give the girl a hug.

"Oomph!" He exclaimed, as she wrapped her arms around his waist. Kendall hugged back, surprised by how long the embrace lasted.

"I'm glad you're okay," She said through a smile. The blonde laughed, surprised by the girl's genuine concern.

"Thanks for coming," He said, honestly. Camille pulled back to show her foster brother the sweet, happy-go-lucky-despite-the-circumstances smile that perfectly matched her mothers.

"We just want you to get better," She said, ruffling his yellow hair with her hand. Kendall grinned and didn't argue when she draped her arm around his waist, and then turned to face the door expectantly. The blonde followed her eyes, slightly confused when he realized she was looking at a blank slate of wall. He almost said something, though right as he opened his mouth the door cracked slightly, and a small figure nervously poked it's head into the room. Kendall pursed his lips and then turned to face Camille, who was now looking to her mother.

"It's ok, Katie, you can come in." Said Mrs. Roberts, walking forward to help her foster daughter. She grabbed the girl by the shoulder and gently forced her into the room, who's head hung sheepishly. Kendall felt his breath catch in his throat as he tried to turn away, but his eyes wouldn't listen as they continued to bare into his baby sister's bright brown orbs. His heart began to crumble as the girl approached him with the utter most reluctance, guilt ruiden and miserable- a clear contrast to the sharp and quick Katie he'd seen only weeks in advance.

They watched each other for several moments before Katie's lips expanded and the words leaked like fluid from her open mouth- "Kendall, you can't even begin to understand,"- but whether it was an apology or a lecture or something in between, Kendall sincerely didn't want to hear it, so he took the girl into his arms and hugged her cautiously. Her apology or lecture was muffled by the fabric of his hospital clothing, though she took it gratefully and hugged him back, tucking her head into the space between her brother's shoulder and neck.

"I love you," She said, letting hot tears fall onto his skin. Kendall nodded, and then tightened his hold.

"I love you too,"

They staid like this until Kendall pulled back to admire his sister, who wasn't yet ready to let go.

"We should let Kendall rest." Mrs. Roberts decided, looking up at a clock that now read 4:24p.m. A nurse would be in to tell them they had to leave shortly, and she was determined to beat her out. As she walked forward to collect her kids, she gave Kendall a quick kiss on the head, before bending down to press her lips to his ear.

"I gave a bag of your stuff to the receptionist," She said, making the blonde furrow his eyebrows in confusion, "It's just some clothes and a tooth brush. I didn't think you'd be too comfortable walking around in a hospital gown for the rest of your visit." The last part of the sentence made Kendall cringe; "rest of your visit" implied that this was only the beginning.

"I told Katie to only pack you a few pairs of pants, some shirts, and a couple clean pairs of underwear" She continued, pulling back and rubbing his shoulder sweetly, "Hopefully you won't need anymore." Kendall smiled as he watched the three depart, mentally adding the Roberts to the "good things in Kendall Knight's life" list.

James and Logan sat next to each other on the front steps as they did every other morning, only for the first time in their lives, both boys were at an utter loss for words.

"You heard Jo's single, now?" James asked after a while, blinking into the sky. Logan shook his head from side to side, staring directly ahead of him, though no where in particular.

"Maybe I'll get with..." The pretty boy thought out loud, before stopping, finding Katie Knight in the distance. He looked to his friend, who's skin had since turned a sickly shade of white and green. After James heard about the incident, he told Logan he shouldn't have bothered doing anything after the way Kendall treated him in front of Katie. He said Kendall was just looking for attention he wouldn't get, and was pathetic for using the same stint a second time.

This set the brunette off and put their relationship on halt for about three hours... until James called again to invite the boy over for dinner.

Unfortunately, Logan needed someone- anyone right now, and it would have been poor judgement to bite the mouth that fed him.

"Dude." James said, nudging the boy with his elbow, less aggressive than intended. Logan pretended not to notice as he pulled his fingers through his hair, "You did the right thing."

"Mhm," Logan grunted, his eyes wide and sleepless. His neck was sore and there wasn't a single word lingering on his tongue; everything was surreal.

When he found Kendall on the ground of the disgusting store bathroom four days prior, his heart stopped, though James's words managed to replay in his head again and again until he found his phone and called for help, despite his sudden comatose. Then he watched as if he were viewing a movie or looking into the window of someone else's nightmare as the paramedics strapped the lifeless blonde onto a gurney and attached an oxegon mask to his face.

It wasn't real when he walked home that evening, ignoring that his car was parked in the store's lot, and it wasn't real when he laid sleeplessly in his unmade bed instead of going to school the next day, and then the day after that. He didn't talk to anyone until James called him the afternoon of Kendall's third day in the hospital after an aria of rumors had hit the school grounds.

"Is it true that his throat was slashed after he fought off a gang outside of that little mini mart downtown?" asked the pretty boy, launching into it without any precursor with more curiosity than actual concern. Though social queues weren't his forte, James swore he heard his best friend's eyes roll from over the phone.

"Where the fuck did you hear that bull shit?" had been the prelude to Logan's long, tear jerking retelling of the story he hadn't accepted as truth until this moment.

Then came the, "and you saw how he almost killed me? And didn't we go through this like, twice already? It's Kendall this and Kendall that. Seriously, Logan, he's pathetic," followed by a "you don't know anything; never talk to me again you cock faced fuck-up. You're the reason why he did this, James," which ended with a, "Dude, lets just forget it. You wanna come over for fish sticks?" To his credit, James had managed to drag his friend to school the next day, which was the reason why he was dripping with discomfort as he sat next to said boy on their usual steps. Still, the pretty boy felt little to no remorse for the brunette and his potential love interest. Just confusion and irritation.

"Hi Katie." Said James, lethargically. Though, "hunt down Katie Knight" was near the top of James's to do list at the moment, he hadn't acted on it yet, knowing just enough about social grace as to save his efforts for a less stressful time. He clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth, and turned to face his friend, who looked up, suddenly alert when he saw the smallest Knight standing over him with a semi optimistic expression. Katie waved in reply, understandably unresponsive.

"Is Kendall-?" Logan asked, so desperate to get the question out, the whole thing hadn't made it past his lips.

"Better," She said, turning her head down as if speaking to her shoes, "They moved him to the juvenile ward-"

"Really?" Logan interjected, his eyes wide and hopeful. The small girl nodded,

"He's better. It still might be a few weeks, though."

"Right." The brunette said, mentally revisiting everything he'd learned in the past about psychiatric care, which wasn't much.

"You can visit him between 2pm and 5," Katie said, responding to the question she read across the smart boy's complexion. Logan sort of smiled, and then jumped when the school bell rang.

"I gotta go," The girl announced, turning on her heel towards the building. Logan nodded appreciatively, and then stood.

"Do you want to go with me after school?" He asked hopefully. James lifted a single eyebrow.

"You think he wants to see me?"

Logan's shoulder's slumped, and instead of a response, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked after the youngest Knight.

"I'll go, I'll go!" James called after him in visible exasperation, before huffing and then marching off in the opposite direction.

Over the next few days, Carlos, Jo, Kelly Weinwright, various students from Palm Woods High, and even the majority of the hockey team came to visit Kendall. Admittedly, some encounters were stranger than others; when defensemen Dak Zevon and Steve Mailbru came to visit, all they wanted to do was talk about how hot the nurse at the front desk was. Regardless, Kendall appreciated every visit, genuinely surprised by how many people took the time out of their day to see him.

By the ninth day of his hospital stay, the blonde was ready to admit that he was semi disappointed to have heard nothing from Logan. He flipped through one of the notebooks the hospital had supplied him with, frowning as he took note of how many times he'd doodled the brunette's name into the margins.

"There are very few people who could look so good in that awful sweatshirt," Kendall looked up from his notebook, his face turning a dark shade of red as he made out a farmiliar figure in the door frame. Not the guy he'd been looking for, but close enough.

His friend threw his arms out to the side, though made no effort to move forward; "Come here."

Kendall rolled his eyes, and jumped from his bed with a surprising amount of energy, leaping into the boy's arms and relishing the tight embrace. Jett managed to place a series of small kisses along his friend's neck before they released.

"So," said the boy, bringing his hands up to tenderly cup the blonde's face, "nice place you got here." Kendall snorted in response,

"Thanks so much, I really try." Jett turned his body out and gestured to the room with the hand he hadn't intertwined with the blonde's.

"I mean it," he said, nodding his head in approval, "small windows, clean floors, new car smell... who wouldn't want to stay here?" Kendall laughed lightly,

"Very true. Can't beat that 'new car smell'." Jett nodded in agreement, and then turned his eyes down to Kendall's casts.

"When do you get those off?" He asked. Kendall looked down to the gauze wrapped around his forearms. The first series of cuts had been pretty badly infected, so he had no idea when those would be better. The arm that read, 'Logan', however, was probably scabbed up well enough to be unveiled, though for obvious reasons, Kendall wanted to keep the bandaging on for as long as possible.

The blonde just shrugged in response, "Dunno."

"You're probably the only one would could pull off that much white after Labor Day." Jett said, nudging the boy in the side. Kendall rolled his eyes.

"Did you come here just to bother me?" He asked, cocking a single eyebrow.

"Absolutely," Jett returned, running his hands down Kendall's sides, "and to tell you that I plan to kidnap you once you're out of here."

"Kidnap?" Kendall laughed humorlessly, flashing back to their first night together.

Jett moved his body closer, and then Kendall was stunned by how uncomfortable he felt. He tried to wiggle his body out of the stronger boy's grip- which he probably could have done, had it been a few weeks in advance, seeing as he'd lost a surprising amount of weight in the time he'd been here- but his efforts were unsuccessful, and he soon found himself engulfed in Jett's hairy arms and overbaring man-colone. The blonde's mind instantly returned to Logan, and a sudden pang of guilt made it's way into Kendall's abdominals.

"I understand how hard you've got it, Kendall," Jett said, pressing his lips up against his friend's ear, "I'm just not sure you know how... hard I've got it for you." Kendall rolled his eyes, though blamed himself for not having made this clearer in advance. He didn't want Jett. He didn't want to have sex with Jett, he didn't want to kiss Jett, he didn't want to watch the sun set and hold hands with Jett.

"Oh, I've got a pretty good idea," The blonde returned quickly, managing to push the handsome boy off of him with an abrupt shove. Jett frowned, though kept his hands on his friend's waste.

And it wasn't that Kendall wasn't into Jett; Maybe if Logan were out of the picture they could have worked, but for the time being, his heart was trying to hold itself together with thin shards of string after being stepped on and thrown to the ground repeatedly.

It just wouldn't work out; Kendall needed time to heal and Jett wanted someone now.

"Jett," Kendall said, softening his tone, "I love that you came to see me, but I can't give you anything at the moment." Before Jett could interject like his sudden gasp predicted he would, Kendall concluded quickly with, "I need you to be my friend. I can't deal with anything else right now." The handsome teen nodded,

"I can be a friend." He said, wearily. Kendall forced a smile, and then walked his friend to the door before giving him a hug goodbye.

Kendall was a bit surprised that the visit had ended on such a solemn note. He shut the door with an agressive wrist flick, moved back to his bed and tried not to dwell on it, which was the exact opposite of what every one of his doctors had been telling him to do.

The next day was similar to the last, and the one after that, and then the one after that. Kendall actually felt as if he'd fallen into a comfortable routine; Mrs. Roberts would come by with Katie and Camille, and then the Roberts would leave, but Katie would stay to talk with her brother about life and love and everything in between, just as if they'd never had that temporary distance. Carlos would come before work each day, sometimes leaving school early to ensure a visit with his friend. In addition to that, various guests would come by; sometimes the visits would last up until 5pm, which would cause the nurse to come in and shoo who ever was there out onto the streets.

Kendall would then go to dinner, where he'd sort-of-socialize with the other patients- something he seemed to mind less and less as time went on- and then there were various group activities he'd be forced to partake in followed by a late session with his counselor to relive the day's festivities, and then lights would go out at 8:30p.m, though Kendall rarely went to sleep on time. Usually he'd stay up to think about the day he'd had and wonder what was going on outside of the juvenile ward. He'd think about Katie and his Grandfather and the hockey team and sometimes he'd write stories or songs or poems in his head, and sometimes he'd write them down in his notebook. He tried not to think about Logan, though he often found it was too difficult not to, and would find himself giving in to the desire.

This particular day began the same as any other, with Kendall's legs dangling off the side of his bed, and Katie's head in his lap.

"Maybe you could get it tattooed over," she suggested, gingerly stroking the gauze that lined his forearm. He'd just shown her the scars, and she'd resistantly agreed that it seemed as if, "LOGAN" had been branded to his flesh. "It's... Kendall, it's very noticeable." had been her exact words, actually.

The blonde pursed his lips, briefly letting the concept work through his mind.

"You've had worse ideas..." he admitted.

"And if you end up together, you can get his name tattooed over his name..." she said, only half jokingly. He rolled his eyes, though the sudden rasp at the door was more interesting.

"Come in," he called, looking to the alarm clock on top of the bedside table first. Judging by the time, he predicted it to be Carlos, who he hadn't yet seen today.

"Erh… Kendall?"

The blonde turned his head, stunned to see the figure standing in the door way, despite having already matched the face to the voice. Before acknowledging the guest, he turned to his sister to see if she wouldn't mind excusing herself for a few minutes. Katie kissed the top of her brother's head before moving out into the hallway, awkwardly shifting past the boy.

"Hey Logan," she mumbled in passing. He waved in return.

Logan blushed as he walked inside, suddenly embarrassed by the flowers he'd brought upon meeting Kendall's gaze. He stuffed the bouquet behind his back and let it bounce against the back of his knee, then humiliated by his attempt to hide them.

"What are those?" Kendall asked, his tone uncharacteristically business like. The brunette felt his face drown in a deep scarlet as he slowly pulled the flowers up and out,

"Oh, these?" Logan returned, lamely, "I just, you know, maybe if you wanted to have something to look at, or smell, or... you know. I don't know. What ever." When Kendall didn't respond, the brunette began to panic, "You can just throw them out if you want. I can throw them out, it's no problem, I don't mind-"

"Logan," The blonde said, sternly. Logan turned back to his friend, his body hovering over the trash bin in the corner, "You can put them in here," Kendall offered, holding out a half empty Poland Spring bottle. Logan obediently shoved the bright yellow tulips into the plastic water bottle, and then balanced it against Mrs. Robert's plant on the night table, in hopes that it didn't fall over.

"They're pretty," Kendall commented, admiring the plant.

"Yeah," Logan agreed. He watched Kendall watch the flowers and then awkwardly scratched the back of his neck with a wide gesture.

"I should probably get going..." He decided, after what couldn't have been more than a few minutes of serious silence.

"Ok," Kendall said, not quite in the mood to argue. Logan did expect him to say something along the lines of, "Oh no, don't," or "please Logan, stay," so he couldn't deny that he was semi disappointed. Pursing his lips, he waved goodbye to his friend and made towards the door,

"It's good to see that you're feeling better," He said on his way out.

"Thank you." Kendall returned, watching as the brunette wrapped his long white fingers around the silver knob. Logan sighed, his reluctance setting in when he turned to meet the green eyes of his ex best friend, that were big and serious and-

Before he knew it, his arms were wrapped around Kendall's waist, and he was momentarily startled that he could very much feel the blonde boy's ribs. He was much more fragile than he was maybe two, three weeks ago, so Logan was more cautious than he would have been...

If you'd told freshman Logan Mitchell he would be partially responsible for putting his best friend in the psychiatric ward after a suicide attempt, he would have laughed in your face, and then given you a million reasons why you were wrong. As the brunette held onto his friend today, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was all some terrible dream, and that any minute now he'd wake up and everything would be back to the way it had been when they were twelve.

"Stop," Kendall said, pulling back lightly and then pressing his thumbs to the brunette's eyes. Before Logan could protest, the blonde quickly wiped his finger tips against his eyelids, down his cheekbones, and then left his hands stranded against the brunette's jawline.

"Stop," he said again. Logan sniffed, and then realized he must have been crying.

"Sorry," He said, unable to tear his eyes away from the blonde's.

"It's cool." Kendall returned through a sort-of-laugh. The brunette took his hand and ran it across his face in a desperate attempt to clean up, as the tears were now falling freely.

"Fuck. Sorry." He said again, bitting into his bottom lip and then looking directly into his palm, "...I just... wish I could fix all of this. You know?" Kendall shrugged in response.

"Yeah, I guess."

Before either of them knew it, their mouths were pressed up against the others, in the softest, gentlest closed mouth kiss.

"I wish I could go back in time and-" Logan continued, making no effort to separate his lips form the blonde's.

"You can't." Kendall interrupted, surprising himself as he hadn't meant to sound so cold.

"I know, but if I could," said the brunette, swallowing the lump that had since formed in the midst of his throat, "I would have made you my only priority." Kendall laughed humorlessly,

"Thanks." He said, not entirely sure of how else he could have responded to that. The blonde move back and watched as a million different emotions- remorse, concern, guilt- danced across his long time friend's expression.

Kendall forced himself to think back to the conversation he'd had with Jett the other day, trying to remember how he'd phrased his incredibly polite rejection; for some reason, though, he was in no way reminded of that other encounter now. Jett had been energetic and hyper and ready and steaming with lust and passion and desire and sex. Logan, on the other hand, stood before him with the saddest eyes he'd ever seen, looking for nothing more than a bit of validation. The blonde sighed, going against his better judgement and forcing himself to relive the same conversation he'd had only a few days ago: "Logan," he began, "I appreciate you being here, but I need to focus on getting better right now, and I don't think I can deal with anything else at the moment. I just, if you want to be there, you need to be alright with being there, and actually being there. And just, I don't want to lose you as a friend; I don't want to risk ruining our friendship again, because it's so much to-"

Logan nodded with more energy than Kendall had anticipated.

"I understand, absolutely," he said, staying completely still, "I just want you to feel better, Kendall. I don't want to lose you as a friend, either-" The blonde laughed; hearing his same words from a different source made him realize it was absurd. Logan, on the other hand, was surprised and confused that the boy found his flustered attempts humorous.

"What?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

"I just realized how ridiculous this is," Kendlal said, giving into his initial instinct as he grabbed the brunette by the neck, skillfully matching their lips and falling into a deep kiss. Logan accepted the gesture, gratefully swinging his arms around the boy's waist, pulling their bodies so close together, he felt the fabric of Kendall's flannel shirt scratch against his slightly exposed torso.

"So what do you think?" Logan asked after they had both pulled back to breathe, his fingers now laced behind the slightly taller boy's neck, "still friends?" Kendall shrugged, hands pressed against the brunette's hips,

"I dunno," he admitted, a smirk working it's way across his flushed complexion, "but we're definitely something."

"Would you be able to give me a dictionary definition of 'definitely something', Kendall Knight?" Logan tested, walking the blonde towards the hospital bed, fingers now intertwined.

"Theoretically," the blonde returned as his friend laid him down along the cool white mattress and worked his fingers through the small brown buttons that lined the taller's shirt, "but shucks, I only remembered to pack my thesaurus." Logan laughed as he straddled his friend, and then pressed his hands against the blonde's now bare torso, slowly working up to his collar bone before coming back down,

"You're such a dork" he said in return.

"Jerk." Kendall laughed, before their mouths were connected and the rest of the world blurred to nothingness.